The Venus Napalm Program
by Xmastreelites
Summary: Ambrollins oneshot. A bizarre, trippy sci-fi dream finds Dean fulfilling his hottest Seth fantasy. Could it happen for real? SLASH I seriously wish they had a category just called "F*cking" (If you consider a oneshot a one chapter story, this doesn't apply. I consider it a "stand alone" story that will not be added to or revisited. So plz just enjoy the content. Thanks!)
1. Chapter 1

She was invisible yet powerful; her robotic computer voice a pleasant female's; her cruelty served politely.

"Will you comply with the Venus Napalm program?" She asked now for the fourth time.

Dean Ambrose was in the corner, shaking, trying to warm his body covered only in jeans and a t-shirt. "Fuck you!" He yelled angrily.

"You answered 'No.' Room temperature dropping to 35 degrees Fahrenheit."

"You fucking bitch!" He yelled at the faceless voice. He'd managed through a sharp drop from 71 to 55 and even to 45 but from there it became more and more unbearable. Would she keep going until he died there? In this perfect square of a room that consisted only of white tiled walls on all four sides, a sterile, shiny white floor and yes, a white ceiling. Just a space-age, clean, pristine white death box for him.

After ten minute's at a steady 35 degrees, she asked politely, "Will you comply with the Venus Napalm program?"

"No," He was so tired. He wondered if she had the ability to detect that.

"You answered 'No.' Room temperature dropping to 20 degrees Fahrenheit"

"Fuck, that's 15 degrees. You've been doing ten. Hey!" The voice did not respond. "Answer me!"

"Please make your request again in 14 minutes, 23 seconds." And she was silent.

"Fuck," He felt the cold creeping up on him like a cloak. "Fifteen fucking minutes?" He wrapped his arms up against his body as the torment continued.

He was startled when he heard, "Are you still there?"

His limbs were numb. Had he drifted asleep? The fifteen minutes had passed in a nano-second. "Ye …" It was just a whisper. "Yes," He managed louder. "Did you think I was dead?"

"Affirmative."

That sent shivers through him stronger than those the cold had brought. "Will you comply with the Venus Napalm program?" She was silent. He wondered if her next strategic move would be 20 degrees colder at twenty minutes. "You have 30 seconds to answer. Then another temperature-conditioning phase will begin."

"I'll comply," He answered, shivering. "Just make this place warm."

"Very well. Warming to 75 degrees." The room warmed quickly and yet, he couldn't shake the chills that kept him trembling.

A new voice took over. Another computer-sounding female with a British accent. "Welcome to the Venus Napalm program."

"Great, now I get to go to British hell."

"Please be seated."

"Fucking where? The floor? I'm already seated." He was angry and confused and deep inside, absolutely terrified. He noticed a sterile-looking white leather couch rise from the floor.

"Please be seated."

He sat down on the edge of the couch, staring at one of four white walls. In the very center of this one was a small lens. He assumed he was being watched through it. He flipped the camera off. "Please be polite, Mr. Ambrose. There's no need for aggression."

"Fuck you bitch," He said angrily. The couch dropped suddenly. "Fuck!" He jumped up and watched the piece of furniture rise slowly back up.

"Please be seated. Keep in mind further arguments and aggression will be dealt with swiftly."

He hesitantly sat. "Now what?"

"Please remove your shirt."

"Are you serious? Take my shirt off? You can see me in a hundred matches and hundreds of gyms not wearing a shirt. Seriously? You're this elaborate, expensive machine that's only purpose is to get my clothes off? A fucking daytime stripper could do that."

"Please remove your shirt."

He jerked the tee over his head and threw it down. "Please deposit the piece of clothing in the provided container." He looked around knowing there was some magic box that must have appeared.

"Oh, a magic drawer. Might as well." He walked to drawer that opened from the wall and tossed his shirt in. It quickly snapped shut, making him jerk back. He sat on the white couch again.

"You can relax. No harm will come to you while you comply with the ..."

Though the voice continued, he yelled over it "...Venus Napalm program! Yeah, I get it!"

"Precisely. Such efforts will be rewarded." A slim, round steel table rose from the floor beside the couch and on it, his missing cigarettes and his lighter. Since his "abduction" all his personal belongings had been missing. He remembered nothing but waking up here, on the floor in this sterile white room. He was dressed in only his jeans and t-shirt and his underwear. His shoes and socks were missing.

"Thanks," He grumbled and quickly lit a cigarette. "Fuckin' sweet Mary, that tastes so good."

"You should know that cigarette smoking has been linked to cancer."

"I don't give a shit!" He yelled, looking at the lens "You tried to freeze me in your creepy Star Wars room and you think I give two fucks about something this little thing could do to me when I'm fucking 40-years-old? Christ!"

The voice was silent as Ambrose smoked his cigarette, still trembling from the cold. "Are you cold?" It asked suddenly.

"Yeah, I'm fucking freezing."

"Warming to 80 degrees." The room suddenly felt as balmy as Florida. Shortly a light sweat broke out on Ambrose's forehead and chest. "Perspiration detected. Would you like the room to be cooler?"

"Sure. Why not. Whatever. But don't fucking freeze my nuts off again."

"Cooling to 73 degrees and maintaining." The room was finally comfortable, at least as comfortable as a creepy, talking room could be to a kidnapping victim.

"Venus Napalm would like to play a game. By agreeing to comply, you have also agreed to play."

"What fucking game?" He narrowed his eyes at the lencse.

"Please return to the drawer and remove the box inside." She refused to answer his question and simply gave polite instruction.

"What am I playing? I wanna know that first." He leaned back on the couch in defiance.

"Please return to the drawer and remove the box inside."

"I'm fucking done with this. People are looking for me. Do you know who the fuck I am, bitch?"

"Dean Ambrose aka Jon Moxley. Your birth name is of no importance. You are a character in this game. You will play."

"Or?" He stared into the lens, bottom lip pouting arrogantly.

"Or you lose the game. Termination."

"You'll fucking kill me?" He challenged.

"Affirmative. The temperature-conditioning sequence was designed to do so. You survived. Congratulations. Please return to the drawer and remove the box inside."

"You're sick."

"I have no detected viruses."

He felt the urge to continue arguing with the voice but actually feared it. He stood and returned to the drawer that opened from the wall as he approached. Inside, a small black box about the size of an engagement ring box, sat centered on a clear glass plate. "You gonna propose to me?" He asked snidely. "Cuz the answer is 'fuck no' all damn day."

"You aren't suitable as a marriage partner. But only as a toy." It was the first time the voice had said anything remotely, possibly sexual in nature. He returned to the couch and opened the box without direction from the voice. He hesitated afraid a poisonous gas would overtake him or some such horror, but then decided that his fate was out of his control at this point. Inside, a small pill, yellow in color. "Your effort will be rewarded." Another slim pedestal from the floor and mug filled with what looked to be beer sweated on it. Cold. Tempting.

"Ah, I get the beer but to swallow your fucking death pill?" He had closed the box and sat it aside.

"The pill will not cause death. Refusal to swallow it will."

"No way. That could be fucking anything. A slow death or fucking cyanide and I'm dead before I hit the floor. Something to make me hallucinate crazy shit."

"You will hallucinate. Images will not be frightening." The voice answered simply.

"Is it X? I mean I've done that. No biggie. Not a problem." He shrugged, trying to appear casual.

"Ecstasy or GHB is only part of the chemical makeup of the pill. Please swallow the pill."

"I'm not doing it! Do you get that, bitch?!" He tossed the box at the lens

"Pick up the fucking box!" The voice became loud and distorted, chilling. Then she added politely in the former robotic voice, "Please."

He was frightened by the demonic sound that came from the walls when she spoke that time. He refused to agree to taking the tablet but retrieved it and sat holding it in his palm.

"Please swallow the pill."

He held it, knowing a decision had to be made quickly. Just letting this room kill him would be easy but the thought of dying so young, so in demand was crushing. But that pill – that round object of pure terror – was perhaps much worse than dying. The only way to know was to experience it. "What the fuck do I do?" He whispered to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

"Seth! Oh my God, Seth! Get me out of here." Dean pleaded with his co-worker and friend. Rollins only looked at Dean without expression or even recognition. "Seth?" Ambrose shook his friend and there was no response. "Fuck, you too? You're fucked like me?" He asked the inanimate Seth. Dean almost broke down crying. "Is Roman next, you nutty bitch?!" He yelled at the lens.

"You are responsible for Seth Rollins' presence."

"What? I didn't make him come with me," He said although he wondered if he had. He was, after all, completely unable to remember how he even arrived in the strange room.

"You made him appear. He's only visible to you. He's a mere fantasy that came from your mind. You are on your trip now." She sounded sly and almost human.

"I didn't take the pill," He yelled, laughing and opened his hand. The yellow tablet was gone now. "What the fuck? I did not take that pill."

"You are correct. It can also be absorbed through the epidermis and while you sat there arguing with yourself, you inadvertently allowed the tablet to enter your bloodstream."

"You're lying." He was so afraid that it was the truth and looked for Seth who was gone. "Bring him back," He demanded.

"Bring him back yourself." The voice was taunting now, becoming less and less robotic.

"How? I don't even know ..." And there was Seth again, this time sitting on the sofa staring into space. "Seth," He whispered to his friend. "Are you real?"

He jumped back when imaginary Seth turned to him. "As real as you want me to be." Rollins stood and strode towards the retreating blond. "Scared of me? You wanted me here." Seth laughed. It was creepy and slightly sexy. He smirked, "Why did you want me here?"

"To save me?" Ambrose was unsure of that.

"Nah," Seth nonchalantly brushed off Dean's comment. "Maybe loneliness? Desire?" Seth became intense and whispered, "Lust?"

"Dude, shut the fuck up," Dean was annoyed and sickened. He actually called on the machine. "Make him stop it." It worried him greatly that he was more afraid of a homosexual Seth than the crazy killer voice.

"She can't make me stop. You can though." Rollins crossed his arms. "Make me stop, Dean. Shut me up. You can, you know." He waited patiently.

"You are real and fucking with me. I don't know why. But I did not make you fucking 'appear' or whatever."

"When you were fourteen, you set fire to an abandoned garage. Later you found out that a homeless man was nearly burned to death because he was sleeping inside. You never told a soul. You never confessed. You have always been plagued with guilt." Seth easily produced the story that only Dean, himself, knew.

Ambrose was stunned. If Seth knew that then only Dean could have put that information in his head. "Okay, I guess you're like not real." Dean was puzzled. "Why do I want you here?"

"You want me." Seth was firm on that point.

"Stop it! I'm not a fag." Dean wanted to punch his friend but was afraid that his arm would go right through like hitting a ghost.

"You're curious though," Seth grinned. It was so sexy and Dean felt it deep in his body.

"Damn! Why am I thinking this shit?"

"The tablet simply allows your true feelings to be manifested." The voice came back to life.

"Who is this for? You? You can't even see him. What if I did fuck him, which I won't. But if I did, nobody would see it. What's the point?"

"This is all for you," She said.

"But you wanted to kill me. That helps me how?" Ambrose paced as Seth now quite human watched with a sly grin.

"Play along, Ambrose," Rollins said, his tone so lusty and hot and tempting.

"What the fuck?" Ambrose was near crying at this point and literally banged his head against the wall.

"Self-harm after surviving is inane, you know." The voice pointed this out matter-of-factly.

"I hate you," Dean screamed at her. "And I hate you!" He looked at Seth.

"You may feel a lot of things for me, Dean, but hate is definitely not one of them." He slipped his shirt over those luscious, sculpted abs and then pushed it back down. Ambrose was frustrated finding that it turned him on a little. "You liked that?" Imaginary Seth asked. He raised his shirt again and ran a palm across those tanned muscles. Dean felt himself hardening and turned away, confused and angry. "You liked it." This time it was a statement and right next to his ear. He felt the breath. How was this a hallucination?

Rollins hands slipped around Ambrose's ribcage, rubbing gently and feeling so nice; so damn nice. Dean exhaled a breath of almost relief, wanting his friend's touch. "But this isn't right, is it?" Seth asked. "Not how you fantasized it, is it?"

"Not really," Dean answered, quite memorized by Seth's cool lips touching his skin as he spoke.

"What's wrong about this picture?" Imaginary Seth pushed.

"You're not supposed to come on to me?" Ambrose questioned Seth as he actually questioned himself. Rollins just smiled. "I come on to you." Dean kept waiting for a response from his friend. Seth was silent. "I come on to you," Dean said in a bolder tone. "In my mind, when I see this, I come on to you and you don't want it."

Seth backed away, the smile gone and fear and confusion on his face. "What are you doing, Dean?"

"This is how I imagine it," Dean said to himself. "Like this." He advanced on his sultry co-worker. Seth backed away until he bumped into the couch which Dean could've sworn was not in his path. He gulped, realizing he'd wanted that piece of furniture in Seth's way; wanted to stop him and trap him like in all his dirty, twisted fantasies.

"I think about fucking you all the time," Ambrose told his friend. "But you don't want it."

"Yeah, no shit. I'm not fucking gay, dude." Rollins was growing angry. "This is fucked up," Rollins growled and pushed Dean away. Ambrose pushed back, hard, and sent Seth sprawling onto the couch.

"That's how I wanted you," Dean said in amazement. "Just like that. You look so helpless. I could punish you." He crawled onto the couch, making his way on top of Seth. "You put these faggy thoughts in my brain. I've seen a hundred guys in locker rooms, but you … you made me think things I don't like thinking." He noticed the couch seemed a hell of a lot bigger as it held both men comfortably. Maybe he'd done that too.

"Get off me," Rollins said quite weakly and made no real attempt to escape. He was soon eye-to-eye with Ambrose.

"Do I kiss you? I only remember fucking you." Dean was unsure how to proceed. He leaned forward, trying to get a feel for it. "I don't think I kiss you. That's too gay." Rollins just stared at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. "Do I?" No answer from imaginary Seth.

Slowly, timidly, Ambrose leaned closer to Seth's face, his eyes scanned the face of his cute co-worker. He liked Seth's eyes and his flawed, happy smile. He liked Seth's lips. "Okay," He whispered to no one in particular. He closed his eyes and allowed his lips to meet Seth's. It was barely a kiss, more of a touch and Dean pulled back as if taking inventory. Still breathing? Check. Heart still beating? Check. He went for another slight touch of the lips and eased into it, his lips forming a kiss slowly. He felt a rush of blood to his cock when Seth responded by mimicking the action. Their lips meeting in earnest now, forming delicate kisses. He pushed his tongue into his friend's mouth and found his - soft, pink and not too wet – perfect. Their tongues tangled slowly. He found himself moaning quietly.

Suddenly, both men jerked away. Dean was upset, Seth was upset. "I don't want this," Ambrose yelled.

"Fuck, me either," imaginary Seth yelled back.

"Fuck you," Dean growled and grabbed Seth's face and kissed him with force, pushing the brunette's head down to the couch. He just let himself go and plundered Seth's mouth, taking it. Rollins struggled, but barely and gave in to the moment. It was just like Dean's fantasies. He broke the kiss and jerked Seth's hair. "You're going to blow me now."

"Hell no," Rollins argued.

"You really fucking are," Dean said firmly. He opened his fly and released his hard cock. He climbed towards Seth's face. He pushed the head of his erection at Seth's mouth. "Do it." He reached back and jerked Rollins by the hair.

Seth made noises of disgust but opened his mouth slightly. That was all Dean needed and he forced his way in. He moaned loudly as Seth engulfed his cock. Ambrose relaxed into the moment, resting his face against the couch. His knees were on each side of Seth's face and he pumped gently into his friend's mouth. "Oh fuck yeah," Dean whispered against the cool leather. It felt amazing. But he wanted Seth to actually suck him not just be an open mouth. He withdrew and stood. He kept his eyes on Seth as he undressed. He saw the brunette look him over. There was definitely lust there. Damn, he knew he'd seen that look before. "I want to see you."

Reluctantly, Rollins removed his clothing. His dick was hard and he seemed embarrassed by that. "I'm not gay." He sounded so weak.

"You're so full of shit." Dean called his bluff and went for a kiss. Seth accepted it and returned it with eagerness.

Ambrose settled onto the couch and lay back, arms behind his head. "Well?" His expression demanded that Seth do what he wanted.

"Um, this is weird." Rollins was hard and into it but frightened at the same time.

"No, it's not." Ambrose put a hand through the thick dark locks of Seth's hair. "You want to. Fuck, I know you do."

Slowly, Seth eased forward and took Dean in. "Oh damn," Dean moaned. He was instantly oozing precum and Rollins swallowed it. Ambrose held each side of his friend's head and guided it onto his cock, making him take it deeper and deeper. He loved the little struggles as Rollins tried pulling back. That sense of controlling Seth turned him on. It was most certainly his "thing." He liked making Seth do his will and please him. It was just like a thousand fantasies he'd had.

As it progressed, Seth became more and more eager to have his friend's cock in his mouth. He went down deep and pulled back slowly, feeling the soft but textured skin drag through his lips. God, Dean had a fat dick and honestly, that's the only kind Seth wanted to suck. What a faggot. He got Dean so hot that the blond pushed him away suddenly. "Not yet," Dean said through ragged breath. "Need to fuck you." He was already sitting up and pushing Seth from his lap.

"No way. That's too far. No." Rollins was adamant and pulled away. But he allowed Dean to kiss him, impressed that his friend showed no reluctance in kissing a mouth that his cock had just been in. That was a little dirty to Seth. And hot. "Just lie facedown." Ambrose wasn't demanding. He was firm but not to a point that Seth felt like running from the situation.

"It's going to hurt." Rollins had a valid argument.

Ambrose just knew there'd be lubricant. There was always lubricant in his daydreams about his co-worker. And there it was, laying on the couch, a small clear bottle. "No it won't," Dean soothed. "I promise."

"Look, it'll make me feel degraded and dirty, okay?" Rollins was using logic and playing on Dean's emotions. But what wicked emotions resided in Ambrose.

"Yeah, I know." Dean licked his lips. "That's my favorite part." He once again wrapped Seth's hair around his hand. "Get on your fucking stomach. Now."

Real Seth would've fought tooth and nail to prevent this but imaginary, fantasy Seth slowly turned over, defeated. Dean took in that heavenly sight - Seth's muscular thighs and perfect, round ass. His back was this beautiful golden color, the skin was flawless and soft. Ambrose ran his palms up the back of Seth's thighs and Seth made a little noise of pleasure. Dean's hands went between the athletic thighs and his fingertips stroked Seth's warm scrotum. Rollins gasped softly. Dean gently parted those gorgeous cheeks and ran a finger between, brushing across his friend's tight little pucker. But he didn't penetrate his friend, he simply stroked softly across it. It made his cock twitch seeing Seth tense and the muscles that made up his entrance contract. "Fuck, this should be sickening. What's wrong with me?" Ambrose questioned himself. But he had no answer.

He added lubricant to his caressing and Seth moaned softly. Dean slipped his hand underneath and felt Rollins' raging hard-on. "Fuck, could this get hotter?" His questions were simply rhetorical. His hand stroked Seth so easily against the now-slick leather. He caught on quickly and added lube to the area under Seth's cock making the couch something nice to fuck. Rollins pumped at it slowly. He was breathing hard now.

With a slick finger, Dean pushed inside his friend. God, Seth was tight as fuck; so tense. "Relax," Dean coaxed him. He felt Rollins relax a bit and he pushed his finger in deeper. He pushed until his digit had disappeared. He slowly fingered Seth and moved his body where he was hovering over Rollins. He spoke into Seth's ear. "How will I ever get my cock up this tight hole?" He felt Seth shudder. "You like that idea, don't you?"

"Yeah," Seth relented. "But I don't like you pushing me around like this. You won't do it anymore."

"I _will_ push you around," Dean countered loudly and smacked what he could reach of Seth's face. "And you fucking like it." He slapped at Seth's face again. "Raise your fucking head." Rollins did as he was told and Dean got a good shot in, smacking Seth's cheek hard. Seth whined but it didn't sound like he was in pain but quite the opposite. "You like playing the bitch, don't you, Seth?"

"Shut up," Rollins managed but there was no power behind his words. He just rocked against the leather that was slick under his cock and breathed rhythmically.

Ambrose toyed with Seth until he relaxed much more. It felt like he actually had a shot of getting inside his hot sex partner. He talked a rough game but was gentle as he tried pushing his head in slowly and carefully. Seth tensed up immediately and instead of barking at him to relax, Dean kissed the back of the brunette's neck. He knew Rollins was warming up quickly as he made another attempt to penetrate him. It was much easier to push in a little though a failed try. He continued brushing his lips against Seth's skin, making lazy circles with his tongue. He softly said, "I won't hurt you. Just relax. I know you want it. You've wanted it for so long."

His partner moaned low and thought about how true that was. Damn, he'd wanted it so very long. His body began to give in and he allowed Dean to slip in very slowly. The blond took great care penetrating his fantasy come to life. He moved just a bit at a time and didn't really want to rush. The idea of just slamming into Seth had, at one time, seemed so damn hot. But now, actually feeling it; entering him slowly was heaven. With the pleasant feeling around his cock and the quiet of the room, albeit a creepy room, Dean found himself inside all the way before he knew it. "Oh fuck," He practically moaned.

Rollins didn't speak but his body language was a testament to his enjoyment of the sensation. He made fists as he dug at the couch's supple leather and gently rocked his hips. His little moans and whines were unbelievably hot and Dean fought for control. He'd longed for this forever and he'd be damned if he'd lose it right then and ruined it. He was still for a few minutes but Seth didn't complain. When Ambrose regained his composure, he begin shallow, slow thrusts. "Oh my God." He was blown away at how good this felt. He kept the strokes shallow, stimulating his entire shaft and apparently, making Seth go crazy. The brunette was much more vocal and much more pushy as he pumped against Dean's cock.

"More," Rollins whispered.

"Yeah?" Ambrose was so into Seth and having him want more was better than anything he'd ever experienced in bed. "You want more?" He was already giving Seth more even as he asked the rhetorical question. He used his entire length to pleasure himself and Seth. "Like that?"

"Yeah, yeah." Rollins was so quiet but that seemed even sexier than him shouting out like they were making a porn film. "Mmm." Such little moans but so full of lust.

For a while, there was total silence; just breathing and soft moans from either of them. Ambrose did Rollins like he'd never done anybody before – fucking perfectly. He noticed sweat on Seth's back and realized that he was also burning up. He had an idea and thought, "Fuck it, why not?"

"Um, voice? Can you make it way cooler in here?" Ambrose looked around waiting for a response.

"Cooling room to 60 degrees Fahrenheit." Immediately he could feel the cool air on his skin. Seth made a sound of relief. Dean started to thank the voice but then decided against it. Who was she to get thanked for anything? Fucking crazy bitch.

With the room more comfortable, the sex got better. Dean began going at it with more speed and Seth seemed to welcome it. His quiet moans had become louder and his thrusting much more intense. "Will this make you cum?" Ambrose was so excited.

"You know it will." Rollins sounded so sweet and agreeable. "I always do." That was true. In every fantasy that Dean ever had, Seth always got off on getting fucked.

"Yeah. You always do." Ambrose just let himself go and gave it to Seth hard and swift. Damn, it felt so … nice? Good? No. It felt so … right. He just banged Seth like a slut and loved every minute of it. He was confused as to how he could have legitimate feelings for his co-worker and also want to mistreat him and use him like a sex toy. He brushed the thought aside, chalking it up to sexual preferences – nothing more, nothing less. He was sure he could outright love someone and still want this kind of rough sex. He grabbed a handful of Seth's hair and pulled his head back, making the soft skin on his neck tight. "Tell me you like it," Dean growled.

"I fucking like it." Rollins whined the answer. He was edging to an orgasm of epic proportions. "Fucking like it so much."

"That drives me fucking crazy." Ambrose was so close to losing control. "Show me you 'fucking like it so much', Seth. Show me." He wanted Seth to just lose it all over that white sofa. Seth moaned and it built from something soft to a loud, wild cry. He fucked the couch while Dean fucked him and he was there. He came hard. It shook his entire body. He pumped and pumped a seemingly never-ending flow of his juices. He finally finished with a loud moan and lay there for his sex partner to use.

Seth's orgasm was nothing short of amazing and Dean was done. He came as he grunted loudly and was uninhibited. Getting off while buried in Seth was bliss, the best damn thing ever.


	3. Chapter 3

The voice rejoined them. "Turn right in one mile."

"What? That makes no sense." Ambrose was confused and Rollins was gone. The voice was quiet for a moment.

"Right turn in 500 feet." She said.

"Huh?" Ambrose slowly awoke in the passenger seat of a rented Ford Fusion. The GPS device was telling the driver, his co-worker, Seth to turn right.

"You're finally awake, dude." Rollins glanced over at Dean.

It took Ambrose quite a while to break from that weird dream and come back to reality. He finally cleared his head enough to speak. "Yeah. I'm up. Damn." He realized quickly that his underwear was a wet mess. What a fucking time to have a wet dream. He'd cum right there beside Seth and dreaming of Seth. He wanted to fall into a hole and disappear.

"So I take it you liked the band," Seth said as he merged onto another interstate highway.

"What?" Dean was thoroughly confused.

"The Venus Napalm Program. That weird band we saw earlier. At the club. Are ya with me?" Rollins was amused by Dean's inability to grasp reality.

"I guess."

"You talked about them while you slept." Seth laughed. "Well, actually you just yelled their name suddenly. You scared the hell out of me."

Dean looked out the window. "Damn, really? What else did I say?" He wanted to know if he should feel like a fool.

"That's all you said," Seth lied and eyed his friend quickly. "So I could use a bathroom break. How bout you?"

"Hell yes." Ambrose wanted to get out of those used underwear. "I mean, I have to piss really bad." He was so afraid that his friend knew what he'd done.

At a rest stop, Dean took his bag into the stall, hoping Seth didn't notice but knowing that he did.

Seth waited outside. He knew exactly what Dean was doing. After all, Rollins had nearly crashed the car watching his co-worker go through an obviously dirty sex dream. Damn, it had to be a hell of a dream. Dean had a prominent erection and rocked his hips as he slept. Seth had never "seen" a wet dream and though he was straight, he found it downright hot. His friend was losing his mind and doing it loudly. Rollins had jerked his head in Dean's direction when he heard his own name come from the blond's lips.

"What the fuck?" Seth said in a whisper. He couldn't stop himself from asking that to no one. The two were alone in the car. It dawned on him that Dean was dreaming of him, a sex dream. Damn. He started to shake his friend awake as he was horrified by the idea of Dean fucking him, even in a dream. He reached out and then stopped himself. Fuck it. If Dean wanted to dream about him, more power to him. Seth found himself a little flattered. He found himself a little hard. He wanted to pull over and watch this event unfold and jerk off as it happened. That thought disturbed him. He kept driving, fearing that stopping would wake Dean though the blond slept through many instructions from the GPS system. He ran his palm across his dick as he listened and tried to watch Dean. He knew when Ambrose popped his cork and he knew it was for real. He wanted to yell, "Damn!" He grinned at the thought of doing just that.

Now at this rest area, Rollins wanted to find a place to be alone and relief himself. He couldn't use the bathroom since Dean was inside changing. Could he? Well, Dean had made him listen to an orgasm. Payback.

Seth entered the bathroom stall. Dean was in the next one and had just removed his ruined underwear. He raised his brows when he heard a zipper and then no noises of urination. "Seth?"

"Yeah?" He smiled slyly. He was about to give Dean a show and let him know that he was privy to Dean's dirty little dream.

"Nothin'. Just wondering if that was you." He continued changing clothes. His jaw dropped when he heard heavy breathing from the next stall and a rhythmic and familiar sound. He knew what jerking off sounded like. And Seth was going at it without shame. Ambrose stood frozen. Was he supposed to hear this? He was stunned when Seth moaned. Yes, he was supposed to hear this. He knew Rollins had heard him talking in his sleep. He knew it was not a secret that he'd dreamt of fucking Seth and now his friend seemed to be saying that it was okay to dream that. Dean smirked. He liked this.

Rollins had wondered if he could even keep a hard-on with somebody listening. But now, he was fucking turned on knowing Dean was right there with barely a wall between them. He allowed himself to really enjoy it and he made noises that confirmed it. He was obviously almost there and began grunting softly. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck." He came and moaned throughout. He rested for a moment and then cleaned up and zipped up and left the bathroom.

Ambrose emerged and just could not look Seth in the eyes. "You need me to drive?" He practically mumbled.

"No, I'm good. Feel refreshed." Seth was making obvious little jokes. How could he be so nonchalant? "Besides we're almost there." Both got in the car.

As they neared the city where Raw would be live the following night, Dean spoke. "Sorry for any, ya know, weirdness." He felt he had to say something or burst.

"I'm okay with it. I'm kinda flattered." Now Seth felt embarrassed. He hadn't expected Dean to actually say something about that night's odd erotic events.

"You aren't freaked out?" Ambrose studied Seth's face in the light from the dashboard.

"Um, I don't tend to jerk off when I'm freaked out." He decided to face this head on since Dean had.

"I'm not gay." Ambrose was compelled to say so.

"I know. Me neither." Rollins was also sure of that.

"I feel like I'm ten years old again and the neighbor kid showed me his dick and I'm showing mine. That weird exploring thing kids do."

"It's the same thing I guess." Rollins could relate to exploring his sexuality as a kid. Even with other boys. It was pretty common.

Dean cleared his throat. "Do you want to, you know, um, try that for real?"

Rollins was stunned silent. Fuck, the balls on this guy. Did Dean ever filter himself? He couldn't muster an answer. He was so frazzled and embarrassed and confused.

"Never mind, never mind," Dean quickly mumbled. "Fuck, I'm sorry. Dude, keep being my friend and forget I said that. It was crazy. I'm tired. Just, you know, fuck."

"Yeah." Rollins kept his eyes on the road.

"Huh?"

"I said 'yeah'," Seth spoke clearly and even looked at Dean, locking eyes for a moment.

"Um, when?" Ambrose was surprised at Seth's answer and annoyed with himself for asking such a pushy question. "Fuck," He was so aggravated with himself.

"Now," Seth said simply as they pulled into the hotel parking lot. "Well after I shower." He said it like he was inviting Dean to play cards.

They parked and made their way to their rooms. After Dean showered and got settled, he went next door and knocked. Rollins opened the door wearing only a towel and wet from a quick shower. "Were you serious?" Dean asked.

Seth pulled Dean into the room. "I'll show you."

What went on was much, much better than any bizarre dream. Dean got live out his fantasy and Seth realized that he had the same fantasy. There was no doubt that they would meet like this again. And again.

_The end. X T L._


End file.
